"How bad is it?" she inquired weakly, but her
tone displayed all her panic and desperation to him.

He didn't answer. He didn't think it would
be a good idea to answer. Instead he swept her golden hair away from
her eye and stared intently at the wound she had endured. Both her
eyes were winced shut in intense pain that riddled her face with
wrinkles. Yep, he mentally agreed with himself, it definitely
wouldn't be a good idea to answer her question. Blood covered the
right side of her face. It dripped off her chin in dark red blots.
Its origin was a deep gash across her eye. Skin was torn away and her
eyelid was almost completely ripped off. If blood wasn't gushing
out and covering her like a thick paint, he would have probably seen
the white of her eye. It was a ghastly sight.

"How is it?" she asked again. This time it was
more a demand than request.

He dabbed the wound gently with a damp cloth. She
winced at the touch, lines of pain drastically forming on her visage.
He noticed that tears had formed in her good eye. She sniffled loudly
and in a matter of moments the clear solution was leaking form the
corner of the eye.

"Shikamaru….." she mumbled hopelessly.

He was flabbergasted. He understood her tears, but
there was nothing to say to make her feel better. Anything beside the
cold hard ugly (literarily) truth would be a complete lie and that
wouldn't make her feel better, because she knew the truth without
asking. Then again the truth would make her only burst out in rage
and tears. He had seen her reaction minutes earlier. Never had he
seen her so violent than when her eye was damaged. Quite frankly, the
enemy that hurt her was doomed in an instant after the attack.
Shikamaru had never seen her stab someone until he was good and dead
like that before.

"It's bad," he sighed at last.

That did it. Tears instantly poured out her eyes like
an uncontrolled waterfall. Her gags and sobs rang in the air. "What
guy will look at me now!" she wept. She lifted her hand up to cover
her eye.

Shikamaru caught her hand at the wrist midway up on
its journey. He didn't find it appropriate to tell her that no one
noticed that eye anyway. He couldn't tell her that in her moment of
weakness. He knew how much looks meant to her, no matter how vain he
thought her opinion was. He moved his hand down and intertwined his
fingers within hers. He turned his eyes away from her.

"I'm still looking," he muttered and there was
some sort of affection and pity in his voice, but the amorous tone
rang above the latter. Instantly her tears stopped.

What can I say, I was bored in Chemistry and came up
with this idea when I was scribbling Ino and thought about her hair.
Maybe I was in a bit of a gory mood.

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